A Chance Encounter
by Alhendra
Summary: At a time when Death Eaters are everywhere, Arthur Weasley knows it's not safe to be caught out alone. But he cannot stay cooped up at home, hiding till the end of the war. Very mild hints of slash.


**A Chance Encounter**

Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to Rowling.

* * *

Arthur slunk down the abandoned alley, head down, swathed in a dark cloak, his signature red hair well hidden beneath a hood. It wasn't very safe for him to be seen in Knockturn Alley. The alley was never safe in itself, but nowadays even Diagon Alley wasn't the best of places for him. The Death Eaters were everywhere, and he knew that he'd be a target. No one important, simply target practice, but they liked to play rough even with insignificant people like him. Being of the purest of wizarding stock wouldn't save him, not when he was a Muggle lover and openly defied You Know Who.

He sighed, pulling his hood further down. This was not the time to be thinking of such matters. He clutched his wand harder in his hand, hidden securely under his robe. He _could _apparate if caught, but he had heard rumours of spells preventing apparition being in the arsenal of some Death Eaters. He could just hope that it was unfounded. But he had an important Order errand to run and he would not shirk his duties because of fear.

A slit of light severed the darkness of the alley as a door opened barely a few yards in front of him, almost blinding him. He stiffened, but there was nowhere to hide, and before he could even turn around and pretend he'd been headed in the opposite direction, a man stepped out.

Arthur swallowed silently. Even semi blinded, his eyes could recognize Lucius Malfoy. The arrogant set of shoulders, the regal, scornful bearing he exuded like an aura around him – he could never mistake _him _for anyone else. He doubted even He Who Must Not Be Named _looked _so imposing, although he devoutly hoped he would never have to find out first hand.

Arthur debated with himself for only a second. He couldn't win a battle with Lucius – not when the man knew enough dark magic to make him seem like a squib. His only hope lay in not being recognized. Especially since he knew that Malfoy would simply _love_ to have him as a trophy – he'd been a thorn in his side for far too long, constantly daring to oppose him so openly in the Ministry.

Arthur looked down and kept on moving forwards, hoping his hood was deep enough to hide him. Lucius simply glanced at him as the door closed behind him, plunging them once more into darkness. Arthur thanked Merlin fervently. There was no way Lucius could recognize him now, his eyes still unaccustomed to darkness. He passed him in the narrow alleyway, and from what he could see – his own eyes had to get readjusted too – he paid him no more attention than one would dirt on the ground. A normally infuriating attitude, but this time to his advantage.

"Expelliarmus." The word was uttered coldly, coolly, just when Arthur thought he was safe. Before he could utter a protective spell, his own wand slipped out of his grasp. He whirled around, fear clutching at his heart. He couldn't even apparate now.

"Lumos." The light emanating from the tip of Lucius' wand blinded Arthur for a second time, and he blinked, steeling himself. He might be terrified, but he'd be damned if he showed it to this…this slimebag.

"Evening, Malfoy," he said, as calmly as he could manage, lifting an eyebrow as he strove to appear cool and collected, as if his stomach wasn't churning. His eyes getting used to the intrusive light, he saw the other man sneer. "Not protected by your usual cronies? I'm surprised."

"Skulking in Knockturn, Weasley? Useless to try and hide yourself with that signature groveling shuffle you have. I would recognize you anywhere. Have you come to your senses and decided to throw yourself on the Dark Lord's mercy at last?"

Arthur snorted, straightening, the insult about his walk stinging more than he'd have thought. Well he wasn't sitting in a padded chair all day, being fawned upon by house elves. "I would never be so cowardly, Malfoy. I leave the begging to swine like you."

Malfoy put him in mind of a snake, and he could certainly move like one. Eves flashing, Lucius gripped his cane right beneath the silver head, and before he could blink, Arthur found himself back to the wall, Lucius' cane pressed painfully sideways against his throat. The man's face illuminated by wand light looked as if carved from ice, which was a very apt description for him. A cold, almost inhumanly beautiful snake.

"What I simply _love _about Gryffindors," Lucius said, voice calm – dangerously so. "Is how they mistake foolishness for bravery."

"What I simply love about Slytherins," Arthur retorted, although the cane running across his windpipe made it hard to talk. "Is how ambition blinds them completely. Forgotten how your master ended up last time, Malfoy? Are you going to cry Imperius again at the end of this war, when your precious dark lord is killed once and for all?"

Malfoy snarled at him, the cane pressing against Arthur's throat harder, the semblance of a statue momentarily broken. For a moment the red head couldn't breathe, and he desperately thought that at least it was better than a Cruciatus. But a moment later the cane loosened again on his throat, and Malfoy seemed to have regained his balance, eyeing him thoughtfully instead of murderously. The man had almost inhuman control.

"There will not be any mistakes _this _time," he said with a smile that Arthur always personally thought looked like anything _but _a smile. "But I know from experience that it is useless trying to talk sense into _you_."

The cold eyes raked over Arthur, from his thinning hair, across his tired face, down across his thin, haggard frame clothed with robes that had seen better days in someone else's possessions. "Always a beggar, Weasley," he said contemptuously. "You and your family are a disgrace to us pure bloods."

Arthur's eyes flashed fire. He knew he made a poor picture next to Lucius – rich, impeccably dressed Lucius with his perfect platinum hair and silver headed cane. But he'd be damned if he let the other man take this tone with him and his family – never mind that he had him wandless.

"At least I'm my own master," he replied, flinging Lucius' contempt back in his own face. "I make my own choices, without leaping at someone else's every order like a mindless terrified _slave_." Lucius' face darkened, this insult wounding deep, and his hand closed around Arthur's throat, cane and wand held tightly in his other hand. Arthur flinched at the hold, but glared back defiantly. He was not going down begging – not even Lucius with all his Dark spells could take his pride.

The tall imposing Slytherin leaned closer, and Arthur pressed himself even further into the wall. Any further and he'd sink into it. "Listen, blood traitor," the blond said silkily. Arthur tried looking away, but the cold, grey infuriated eyes kept his own trapped helplessly. "I could take you to the Dark Lord here and now," he almost purred, his warm breath washing over Arthur's own lips, distracting his thoughts. "But that would be over too soon. And you deserve much _much _more for all the trouble you've caused me in the past."

And then Lucius smiled, a hungry, wolfish smile that was worse than anger. His hold on Arthur's neck loosened, and a white gloved thumb stroked Arthur's neck gently. Arthur's eyes widened, and he almost stopped breathing. "Weasley, Weasley," Lucius said softly, his dangerous smile widening. His hand slid upwards, until his fingers caressed Arthur's cheek, in a gesture that sent shivers down the redhead's spine. "I really look forward to making you scream when the time is right. It will be a…_pleasure _to see you break. But the hunt is almost half the fun, and I will not let this chance encounter _spoil _it for me."

Their eyes remained locked for a few moments longer, Arthur keenly aware of everything – the strength hidden in those deceptively gentle fingers, the grey mists swirling in Lucius' unreadable eyes, their breaths condensing in the cold night air, the cool hard bricks digging into his back, the uneven ground under his feet – but unable to look away.

And then Lucius turned, and walked away.

Arthur gaped, still leaning against the wall, the sudden loss of contact leaving him feeling strangely bereft. He stared down at the wand that Lucius had flung down next to him, and then back at the man walking serenely away from him. He could have dived for his wand and attacked him – but he _knew _that he couldn't, and more importantly, he knew that Lucius knew this. The Death Eater would never have risked leaving himself open otherwise. So Arthur kept staring until Lucius had melted into the darkness, even his platinum hair invisible.

The red head stooped and picked up his wand slowly, almost forgetting to pull the hood down to hide his face again. His cheek itched where Lucius had stroked it, and he set his jaw tight, stopping himself from cupping his cheek, reminding himself to hurry and finish his errand. He didn't know what Lucius was up to, or _why _he'd let him go – it made no sense – but he couldn't afford to worry about it.

Head spinning, Arthur hurried down the alley, finding his thoughts centred irrevocably on a tall, handsome snake of a man.

* * *

"Arthur!" Molly screamed in relief as her husband arrived home. Ginny flung herself upon her father, and Arthur saw the boys sigh in relief, all gathered to wait for his return.

"What happened?" his wife asked him, as he hugged her tightly. "What took you so long? We were so worried…"

Arthur smiled faintly. "It was fine…" But he owed them an explanation. "I ran into Malfoy on the way," he clarified. Molly looked horrified, and Ginny gasped. The boys exchanged looks.

"He didn't…you…what happened?" Ginny asked fearfully, eyes wide.

"Don't worry," Arthur said, stroking his daughter's hair. "Nothing happened." Well, he could hardly _explain _what had happened. He wasn't sure of that himself. Why _had _Malfoy let him go? Mulling it over obsessively still had given him no answers.

"He just didn't recognize me."

* * *

It took a very long time for Arthur to fall asleep that night, and when he did, he dreamt of cold, grey eyes, a silky soft voice and strong fingers that turned into snakes, slid into coils around him and didn't let go.


End file.
